my mom's diary & love

had a conversation with sig on my way home work. she mentioned how chat found my mom's diary when she was in the philippines. sig had browsed through one of the entries that my mom wrote when she was twenty years old. my mom complained about her mom. my mom was flattered by a visit from a fellow once. my mom was tired of staying home sometimes...

     before i got into my car i was having a conversation about life and love ( and most of it was about love).  

     everything's gotta come together and many things already have. i have no control over anything. i know i've written that, said that, felt that, and repeated it to myself many times as a mantra. it makes me feel safe because it's the truth.  

     if i have a child and they track down everything i've ever written, i hope it's fun and full of crazy stories. it would be nice if they learned from reading it that nothing was secure but everything was as it should be: that their mom got high sometimes and met a guy in a grocery store who stopped her in her tracks to tell her she was fucking gorgeous. that she had many lovers. that she had friends that she loved and was even married once before living in her cabin among trees and her beach in kauai. that she had drinks with one of america's most influential poets. that she had long hair in her twenties before becoming a shaved headed little yogi and covered with tattoos. that she loved the rain, kissing, dancing, and most of all, dancing by herself. that she traveled the world twice over, changed many lives,  and the one thing she found to be consistent was everybody's search for, struggle with, and exploration of  l o v e .